See paragraph 1. . "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. Missy looked like a troll with lipstick on. Never was heard such a bawling as these unfortunate wights kept up. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. It has been very humiliating. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. The intense darkness added to the terror of the storm. " "Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. She passed down the stairs and into the street. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. .
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